September Storm
by pacificbluegirl
Summary: A disheveled and panicking Elliot Stabler rushes back to his old precinct after he's received news that has instantly torn his world apart. Can you ever truly leave a partner behind? E/O with Bensaro partnership/friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **September Storm

**Author: **pacificbluegirl

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the SVU characters, I have just borrowed them for a bit of tortu- I mean fun.

**Summary:** A disheveled and panicking Elliot Stabler rushes back to his old precinct after he's received news that has instantly torn his world apart. Can you ever truly leave a partner behind?

**Authors note:** Set some time in season 14, but before her Negotiation. Contains E/O as well as some Bensaro partnership/friendship moments for anyone who likes a bit of that.

_Jeg tænker på Olivia_

_Jeg tænker stadig på Olivia_

/

I am thinking of Olivia

I am still thinking of Olivia

- Rasmus Seebach, _Olivia_

* * *

_**September Storm**_

The window is beginning to fog up along the bottom and out of the corner of his eye he catches blurred flashes of yellow as the rain falls, harder and harder. The noise the cascading rain makes against the roof of the cab is drilling its way through his head and he swallows hard, thinking he can feel bile rise in his throat. He swallows again, and again. Tries to push the tightness of his throat away and is desperately willing what is left of his breakfast to stay down.

It is fully possible that the majority came up on his driveway as he ran out to catch his flight this morning. He can still feel it on his tongue.

The traffic pulsates through the traffic and he rubs his chest with a clammy palm willing the city, _their_ city, to fall into rhythm with his racing heart. He needs it to move faster. But it won't listen. Big, fat streams of water runs down the window of the car and he doesn't know if his groans of pain are just in his head, or if he is letting them spill between his lips. He thinks he might have caught the taxi driver eyeing him warily in the rearview mirror but he can't be sure, can't concentrate on the thought long enough.

Thunder breaks across the sky, snakes its way between skyscrapers and blocks of brownstones. The bright light blurs in the heavy rainfall and blends with the splashes of yellow that rushes past. When he first got into the cab, when they first started the journey he had found it comforting. He had almost unconsciously counted them - the other cabs. So familiar, so normal. There should be no better indication of normal in New York city. Now the traffic around him had turned into a prison.

_How much longer, until we're there_, pushed its way through the drilling in his head, but he purses his lips. He's not a child, and he knows. Even in a storm and even with his throat full of burning bile and even though he can't remember what it was exactly that he did have for breakfast this morning he knows exactly where they are. He knows where in the massive grid they're being swept along in the strong current of traffic.

_Not much longer now. Almost there._

He twists his hands in his lap and lets his mind temporarily wonder if he has his wallet with him.

As the taxi finally pulls up at his destination he tries not to cry because this goddamn building was just meant to be a leg of a journey, never a destination, not for them. There was meant to be more. Palm trees, European castles, tiny feet running across hardwood floors, kisses, cuddles and _promises kept_. Warmth, safety, security.

He does have his wallet and he throws bills at the driver, not quite having listened to what he owes him but the driver pulls away the second he's pushed the door closed behind him so it must have been enough. Elliot blinks rain out of his eyes and feels his shirt soak through at the shoulders. He looks up at the building and he isn't sure if he has tears running down his cheeks or if it is just the rain. It is quiet in a way he never remembers his precinct being at this time of the day.

Now that he is here he all of a sudden regrets having willed time to go faster. Now that he is here he wants it to slow down to a slow motion. He wants to cling to this reality a little bit longer, the one where he is yet to see what he knows he will never be able to burn off his retinas. The picture had been... bad enough.

The rain is coming down heavily though and as the wind picks up he shivers, suddenly cold and he squeezes his hands into fists. The cold is tugging and ripping at his clothes and skin and his mind taunts him with every step he takes toward the entrance. His imagination is piecing together how ice cold damp will have spread through her veins, each weak beat of her heart having carried it further through her body until it had-

"Sir?"

And he has climbed all the stairs, grabs the doorway, hard until his knuckles go white and there is a dark gray, cable knitted cardigan hanging over her desk chair. He knows the one. Knows it is too big for her, he has joked many times that it could fit at least two and it is the softest piece of clothing he has ever touched. A memory jolts through him and he lets go of the door frame and takes a heavy step towards the desk. They had argued... or maybe he argued, and she reasoned. He takes another step towards it and the air is so still. He wipes at his wet forehead, dries the rain with a useless, soaked shirt sleeve. She had walked away from him looking tired and worn out in that way he sometimes thought only he could make her. He found her sleep on one of the bunks hours later and she was muttering in her sleep. He remember sitting on the edge of the crib with his head in his hands just listening to her whimper and thinking there was so much she never told him about. So much he could never keep her safe from.

The damn cardigan had been in a pile on the floor, and he had picked it up. Just like he did now. He had draped it over her, tucked her in, leaving his hands on her shoulders.

No, no. He puts the garment back on the chair and it is so quiet. He closes his eyes for a moment and tries to sift through the white noise and keep the strange headache at bay. When did that even start?

"Sir? Sir!"

There used to be a picture of them on her desk.

"Sir can I help you?" the voice is desperate and weary all at the same time and as Elliot finally realises someone is speaking to him and spins around the stranger takes a half step back as if frightened by something in his eyes.

Nick thinks that this is not what he needs. He needs a couple of hours of sleep and a break through in this case they have been working for the past week. He thinks that if he doesn't get his sleep now there will be no time for the next 20 hours. His limbs are aching a little from the overnight stake-out in his car and he can still taste stale coffee on his lips. His hand is hovering over his holster and if it wasn't for familiarity somewhere in the mans worn and pale face he would have palmed his weapon a long time ago. He is relieved to have finally snapped the man out of his trance but is still not sure what to think, or do so he asks him again.

"Can I help you?" and he feels just as tired as he sounds.

"Can I-" Elliot starts, but changes his mind. "Captain?" he asks and Nick notices how the man peers behind him, as to search the office behind him, still clearly very distracted and distraught.

Nick narrows his eyes at Elliot and relaxes a little.

"I am sure I can find the Captain for you if you tell me what you need Mr...?"

Somehow Nick expects what comes out of the mans mouth next, that feeling of familiarity, like when you think you might be grasping at the memory of a dream, still tugging at his mind.

"Detective."

"Detective Stabler?" Nick continues for him and he is sure he can see the big, strong man's knees buckle at the sound of his full title. He knew he recognised him. He had never met him before of course but had seen him in enough pictures and though his partner hardly ever spoke about him he was still the only force that could rip through his partner like a tornado when she let her guard down and someone used it to their advantage. He had witnessed a couple of old perps that they had crossed paths with again do it and he had even seen colleagues bring his name up at times when pressure of the job had made them make bad calls to get to where they thought they needed to get with the female detective.

She would always carry him on her sleeve as if her heart was made up of the memory of this man. The disheveled man that is standing before him now, dripping all over the floor.

Nick takes a few steps towards him and considers extending his hand to introduce himself but Stabler's eyes are still filled with something Nick can't quite understand. Instead he motions towards the hallway and clears his throat before he speaks, as calmly and confidently as he can.

"Let's head down to the lockers, I know she still has a few of your shirts."

Nick walks down the hall and is relieved when he hears Elliot follow him but can't divert his eyes when the detective stands there, moments later, staring at the contents of Olivia's locker and how the top shelf is full of things that belong to him. There's a t-shirt, a folded sports bra on top of it and he realises that she would have used his old t-shirt for running. His heart is cramping dangerously and he releases a shaky breath as Nick carefully reaches in and pulls a dry shirt of the shelf and hands it to Elliot. He closes the locker and the sound of the metal slamming shut seems to once again pull him back to reality. There was a NYPD hoodie in there that was definitely his too he thinks as he gets changed with shaky hands, and Nick waits somewhat impatiently in the doorway and the strange headache is pushing back into his world.

Somehow something feels so odd. So wrong, and not in the way he had expected.

"I'm Amaro. Detective Nick Amaro," the dark haired man says from his place in the door and Elliot looks at him through dark eyes before nodding slightly.

"I..." but Elliot can't finish because the sound of what he thinks is Fin half shouting to Munch throws him off track.

"Look, Stabler... Detective," Nick says bowing his head slightly in respect, "you look like you have been through quite an ordeal, and now that you are dry I was hoping you-"

But that's definitely Fin coming into the squad room and Elliot tears his eyes from Nick and pushes past him. There is a growl in his throat. There is a scream in his head, bouncing off the sore inner walls of his scull and he thinks it is hers. It doesn't sound like his own. He rushes back in through the door, spills into the room filled with the low orange light of desk lights in the dusky dark. The clouded skies outside are casting strange shadows over the room and he feels his heart race again. He thinks he can hear it beat - echo in the still squad room, but the scream in his head drowns it out and his nostrils are flaring, his breathing heavy and quick.

"Stabler!" Fin gasps as he drops car keys, his gun and his wet coat on his desk. He's frozen in place, doesn't want to approach the ghost from their past. Not like this. Not while Elliot looks like he has just been possessed by a demon.

"What is going on?" Munch approaches from behind and Elliot turns to look at him and the strange blonde woman wearily walking up behind the older man. Just like Nick had done earlier her hand instinctively goes to her gun but Elliot notices Nick shake his head at her from the other side of the room. He doesn't know if Elliot is armed of course, but he doubts it and either way he is not dangerous.

He hopes.

A sob breaks through the thick air of the room and somewhere in the building a desk phone is ringing. It takes Elliot a moment to realise that it was him that had momentarily broken. He pulls a shaky breath in through his teeth and Fin slowly moves, finally.

"Hey, hey Stabler, we haven't seen you in a while..." he isn't being accusative, he is just trying to approach him and Elliot knows. Something isn't adding up. His mouth goes dry but he croaks it out anyway,

"Fin! She- she's... where is... can I-"

Munch approaches now and Nick and Rollins stand back, letting the former colleagues speak to him on their own.

"Elliot," Munch tries, and he scans over the younger man for visible injuries or trauma that would cause him discomfort. "Can you tell me what brought you back here?" He doesn't take his eyes off of Elliot, but motions for Fin to go get a cup of coffee for him.

"Fin will get you a warm drink, I think we could all use some," he tries to ease the tension, and carefully places a hand on Elliot's tense shoulder. He can feel the muscles under the taught skin tighten and ignores it as he pushes for Elliot to sit.

"We have been out all night, surveilling this apartment block down by Penn South and I thought we were all beat but you do look worse my friend." Munch sees how Elliot shakes his head slightly and confusion mixes with the anger and despair in his eyes.

Fin hands him a cup of coffee and tells him to be careful with it in a voice that he normally reserves for kids Elliot thinks and he blinks down into the cup. He still feels sick and cold and nothing makes sense but at the same time he is terrified to even think- he can't put the thoughts together and he can't say it out loud because if he does it is real and all of a sudden he is swallowing down bile again. Fin mutters to Munch that maybe they should call for a doctor and Elliot can hear him. He just can't bring himself to say anything. It isn't until he sees two large hands land, carefully on his knees that he slowly lifts his gaze from the black liquid before him. Captain Cragen, so familiar despite his aging features, is peering at him from his position on the floor. He had moved across the floor in silence upon his arrival and crouched down in front of his Detective. Former Detective, technically, but he was not a very technical man.

"Elliot."

And that is it and somehow Elliot feels himself get tugged back out, ripped from the shore and thrown back under a cold wave in the raging sea of doubt. He sobs again, can hear himself clearly this time and Cragen brings one of his hands to his shoulder instead, shakes him lightly and tries to get him to look at him again. He is sure Don is about to tell him then, but instead he wants something from him... he is asking him for something. The fog gets thicker.

"Elliot! Elliot, you have to speak to me, you have to let me know what is going on or I can't help you!"

But he isn't listening, instead he seems to suddenly be overcome by a realisation. He needs something and he nearly forgets he is holding a cup of coffee. The drink spills as he scrambles to pat himself down and Fin snatches the cup from him just in time.

"Woah... woah there big man," he mutters and puts the cup down on a nearby desk.

Elliot is trying to pull something from his pocket with shaky hands and Cragen asks Nick if he can call her and he says she should be here any second and Elliot stands up all of a sudden with a roar that's dry and broken and he holds his phone out in front of him, to Cragen, Fin and Munch and Amanda and Nick both walk closer to see what it is that he's showing them. His breathing is ragged and his chest is heaving where he stands just wanting to scream that he knows. He knows what happened and they're pretending like he doesn't need to know. He feels sick as he spits it out, finally.

"Olivia's dead!"

It's like a poison on his tongue and in that moment he remembers every single moment during their 12 years together that he had those exact words ringing like a premonition in his ears as they got called out out of a case and her hand, so small compared to his, grabbed the weapon that indicated that she was about to step out of their world, and into the cruel world outside where she was a target, a shield to the public. He remembers how it became his every day world and how he grew numb and powerless in time with their bond growing. He remembers every single time she disappeared behind a corner or ran down an alley on her own and how his heart would tighten with the knowledge that this was their job he had to continue. He had to just go on. This was meant to be okay, even if it would some day come down to _those words_.

He can't hear their gasps over his own heavy breathing but the clouds in his mind breaks and spills away when a blinding light suddenly spills into the room. He swears his heart stops beating in his chest and Cragen takes the phone out of his hand just as it goes limp and stares at the image. Nick looks at it over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. There are pinks and soft pastel yellows bleeding into the thick clouds and she is okay until she breaks through the crowd of her colleagues and sees the pure look of confusion on his face. Only then does she silently start to cry. He blinks at the bright light that is her and he thinks for a heartbreaking second that he might be dreaming.

"Why would I be dead?" she asks, her small hands on his arms now and he wants to laugh. Instead he just chokes on his own words and his eyes take her in, alive, well and breathing. He thinks he is smiling, but she is crying and he shakes his head desperately, no, no, no.

"Don't," he croaks and his voice is hoarse and thick and she just stands there looking at the way his face slowly lights up with relief and the weak, still shocked smile, turns into a grin.

"Elliot!" Cragen tries to get his attention and Nick now holds the phone, continuing to stare at it. "Elliot, where the hell did this picture come from?" The Captain feels for him, he really does. It all makes sense now, and he pushes the thought out of his head that they just had a preview of what would actually happen to their old colleague and friend if they did lose Liv. He had left the job, and she thought he had also left her, but he couldn't, not really.

Elliot wants to hug her, wants to hold her close, close, closer but he is suddenly aware of the fact that he hasn't seen her in years and left her behind without so much as a goodbye and he is not sure if he has the right to touch her. He can't stop grinning though and Liv cocks her head slightly and gingerly reaches out to place her palm on his chest, right over his heart.

"My shirt..." she speaks softly, and he smiles down at her, wants to brush his fingers over her bottom lip as it still trembles.

"Actually, it is _my_ shirt," and he wants to laugh again, wants to bury his face in her hair. She smiles back at him, if only faintly and Cragen tries to get his attention again while Olivia overhears Nick on the phone with a technical team.

"What's going on?" she asks looking from Nick to Cragen and back to Elliot. "El," and the nickname warms her tongue, like hot chocolate. "El, why did you think I was dead?"

"I got a call this morning, just after 6am, he said he was an officer here and that they had tried to contact me earlier but... it made sense, I had taken the boat out. I had no reception, I just... I know how close you have come before, I know you," and he feels immensely proud and ashamed at the same time, because he does know her and while he left to a safer world he left her behind. He clears his throat as it tightens again. "I know how stupid you can be when you think you can save someone, even if it means..." and he can't say it. He doesn't need to.

"Which officer?" Cragen asks and Liv leaves Elliot's side to look at whatever it is Nick is trying to get answers about.

"He said his name was Officer Cook, and I... I know it was stupid but he had so many details Captain! He spoke about the autopsy and he just knew so much of her medical and work history and," Elliot's voice grew darker, "he spoke of her in a way that made no sense, unless... unless-"

"He could describe her to you in great detail? Details about her that only you would know?" Fin inquired and Elliot shuffled his feet while Olivia looked at him skeptically from her spot next to Nick.

"No, yes... Look it's not like that, I mean obviously I am not the only one that would know-"

Olivia was glaring at him and he almost wanted to smile again because he had missed her so much and she loved it when she got annoyed with him like that.

"And don't look at me like that guys, I didn't say I know because Liv and I... look, Captain it doesn't matter. I have fished her off the ground and looked for bullets before. I have pumped water out of her lungs and I have gotten her out of freezing wet clothes to save her from getting pneumonia. If the bastard wanted to quiz me on body features he could. I know her well is all I am saying, inside and _out_. When he spoke about the autopsy it made sense to me."

"And the picture?" Liv asks him, looking at it herself again. She did indeed look awfully dead in it.

"It was sent to me just after. I know you guys must think I have lost my mind, and that I shouldn't have believed him but it felt so real. It isn't like it was impossible and then when the picture showed up I just couldn't think straight anymore. I swear that is Liv in that picture!"

"It is," Nick says then, just getting off the phone again. "I forwarded it to the technical lab, and we need to get them the entire phone ASAP but for now what they can tell us is that it has been modified in some way, probably Photoshop or some other editing software. It is definitely Liv though, because I know where this would have been taken."

"Where?" Cragen demands and Olivia nods.

"I know too. This is that roof, of the hotel... a couple of weeks ago."

Cragen nods, he remembers, he got called out to the hospital afterwards and was relieved it was only a mild concussion. He had spent an hour with Nick afterwards telling him it wasn't his fault and that he had done well to get his partner to safety. It could have been so much worse he'd told him over a cup of almost criminally bad hospital coffee.

"One of the maids had been raped and one of the guys on reception ran when we tried to speak to him," Liv fills in for Elliot. "We chased him up on the roof and he got me over the head with a pipe."

Nick holds the phone up as he speaks to his colleagues, eyes on Elliot. "This picture, was taken on that roof before I managed to get to her. She fell back, unconscious and while she was bruised and needed a trip to the ER this picture you were sent has been heavily edited. Someone has made it look like she has been shot to death. We just need to find out who."

"The bastard on the roof?" Fin suggests, but Nick shakes his head.

"No way he had time to take that picture before he crashed over the edge. He panicked after Liv went down and lost his footing. The police peeled him off the car he landed on 10 stories down while I carried Benson down to the bus."

"He's dead?" Elliot asks, not sure of which answer he would most like to hear.

"Yep," Nick nods, "he died in hospital a few hours later. He never came to, so no one got the chance to speak to him. We found the maid's DNA under his fingernails, and hers under his, but the semen was not a match. If he raped her he wore a condom, and someone else joined in but didn't."

"Or he wasn't our guy at all," Munch suggests and Nick shrugs.

"I should have known this could all have been someone playing games with me when I received the picture..." Elliot mumbles and sits down on the chair again, suddenly exhausted.

"It is a strange thing for the police to send out," Amanda adds softly, aware that Elliot has a long history with this team and that she has never met the man before. She doesn't want to start off their acquaintance with insulting him.

Elliot gets what she is saying and doesn't blame her.

"I know," he nods, "and I did figure when it came that he probably wasn't a police officer. Even the detail he went into about her death though conveyed to a partner was so precise it was cruel. By then it was too late though and I figured it didn't change Liv's fate. She was dead no matter who had delivered the message to me."

"Only she wasn't!" Nick mutters and seals the phone in a plastic evidence bag and tags it for transport over to the technical lab to keep himself busy. It feels strange listening to Stabler speak about this, about _his_ partner because she is now. She is his partner and he can't help but wonder if something did happen to her, who would be contacted first, him or Stabler?

"I'll see what we can find out from the phone," he continuous quietly, and Amanda looks at Liv, more out of principal than anything else and waits for her nod to say she is staying put so Rollins can go with him if she wants.

"Okay," Amanda replies to the silent request from Olivia as she motions towards Nick. "I'll go with him."

Elliot puts it together, he's been in their shoes, sat at these desks and worked the same streets. There is a warm ball in his stomach, melting away the nausea and ice that's been lodged there for so many hours now, when he recognises that Liv just sent Amanda out to pass on her partner duties to Nick to stay with him. Part of him knows he would have counted on her doing that, and that makes him feel a little bit arrogant and guilty... after all she doesn't owe him any of her loyalty. Not after he made it damn clear to her that she couldn't rely on him to always make that choice.

Hours pass and they don't seem to really get any closer to solving who set Elliot up.

"It is really hard to pin down exactly who is the special victim here," Barba says while looking over their board of leads so far. He turns back around and shrugs. "I mean, obviously something is going on, but right now it looks more like someone played a cruel prank on Detective Stabler than anything else."

"Could it be a warning of some sort?" Amanda asks and Liv paces the room.

"If someone wanted to threaten me, why not actually just threaten me, why contact Elliot?"

"If it was meant as some sort of warning or threat to Benson whoever did it sure had faith in Stabler actually doing something about it," Nick says and Elliot grunts in disapproval.

"Why wouldn't I? Why the hell would I be told Liv was dead and just go about my life as normal?"

"Look man, all I am saying is that maybe someone wanted to lure you back to town? Or away from something? Distract you?"

"Kathy and the kids?" Olivia asks, and it feels strange saying Kathy's name again after all these years.

"I have already checked in on them, they're fine."

"Then I am afraid we might have to put this on hold for now," Cragen says and he looks at the time. "It is getting late, you guys might as well head home for some rest and if the tech guys come up with some lead on who sent the picture they will let us know and we can have a look at it in the morning."

Barba stops Nick as they all go to gather their things.

"Amaro, I need a sec with you or Liv on the Cortez case... I almost forgot that that was my actual reason for stopping by," he smiles and Nick motions for him to join him in one of the interview rooms.

"Sure, why don't we sit down for now, and I will fill Benson in later."

Elliot lingers in the squad room, can't decide if he misses coming here or not... and he almost jumps when he feels a small, familiar hand on his arm. It slides down his bicep and just as suddenly as she was close, she is walking away again but she turns towards him as she walks and calls out to him "you're staying?"

He is confused for just a second, is he staying where? But then he gets what she means, and he looks at her, curious... would she really want him to?

"It's been so long," she says, her voice lower, and he can feel Fin's eyes burning into the back of his head as he smiles back at her. He gets now, with some distance to it all, why people might have thought they were hooking up back then. He's never noticed before how they speak to each other. The words they use and the words they don't use at all, don't need to. She disappears down the hall, to get changed or get something, and he takes a deep breath and turns around as he can feel Fin come up behind him. Close.

"Stabler," he says and Elliot just looks at him. "Do you need me to remind you?"

And Elliot is annoyed, because really, do they all think he is blissfully unaware of what he left behind and how badly he has dealt with it?

"Of the pirate code?" Elliot tries to brush the subject aside, doesn't really want to talk about it. "Just let it go Fin, Liv and I-"

"I am sure the lines got a bit blurred while you commandeered, plundered and changed rules to guidelines but the rest of us are actual police officers with actual partnerships. Why don't you take that seriously just for today!" Fin growled and Elliot groaned at him, angrily.

"Look at me, Fin, do I look like a man who has not had a _serious_ day today?"

"I am just saying man, be damn careful with her this time."

Elliot sighs, knows Fin is right, but can't stand the way he is rubbing it in his face.

"No one is more careful with her than I am!" he grinds out through gritted teeth and he almost wants Fin to punch him in the face then, because he knows damn well that though that might have been his intention he sure screwed her over.

"You're forgetting who was left to pick up the pieces." And Fin looks at him, long and hard, and Elliot knows Fin is actually quite happy to see him. He knows the circumstances just suck and that he did not leave any of them with the explanation and the goodbyes and thank yous that they deserved. "You're not her partner anymore. Don't give her actual partner an excuse to come get her tonight, is all."

Nick and Barba are standing over at Nick's desk now, and Elliot knows he's heard but notes that Nick doesn't say anything at that. He does however speak up as Liv comes back with her bag, ready to head out, and Elliot can't help but stare at them as Nick takes her into his arms for a moment asking her to call him if she needs anything, and he thinks he is looking right at him when he assures her that _really, he is always free if she needs him to swing by,_ but he might have imagined that.

It is a nice thing for someone to say, and she deserves the very best people. She deserves people that looks after her, and that cares and yet it stings and burns his insides like an angry little fire and Fin turns around and heads out just like that and Elliot feels lonely all of a sudden. Abandoned. The nausea from before creeps back into his stomach. He chose to walk away from them, from _her_, and he can't even imagine how lonely she will have felt when she stepped out onto those streets with him all of a sudden no longer there to watch her back.

He still hates the day he told her he shouldn't have to... that watching her back was not what he should have to spend his time on the job doing. It was a ridiculous lie that he knew had hurt her immensely and as she stands there now, pushing a section of her hair behind her ear, watching him, he wants to go back to that very day and take it all back, make it un-done. He wants to kiss the palm of her hand and tell her he's feeling guilty and powerless and like he isn't good enough but that he will never regret anything he ever does to keep her safe.

"I can grab a cab, if _your partner_ doesn't want me to-" and the words are tearing at his soul, scratching the inside of his mouth as he says them. He is pushing this for no reason at all, and he knows it. Inside, a small voice is telling him to drop it but anger is crawling under his skin. It doesn't make a difference that he is mostly just angry at himself.

Olivia just rolls her eyes and throws an apologetic look Nick's way.

"Why would he? Everyone isn't as jealous and over protective as you El."

"She's probably right about the jealousy," Nick says pushing past Elliot on his way out through the door, but before he disappears out the door he calls back "but I wouldn't count on me not being just as over protective!" and Elliot knows. Elliot used to be the one with that responsibility. He hears how serious he is and he knows Liv thinks it is silly and boyish and macho crap but it's not.

In his mind he can still recall the dead version of his partner, with her skin pale and cold and her chest covered in blood. The Olivia from the photo that wasn't real. The Olivia he believed had found her final destination in life to be the morgue. She drives them home though, very much alive, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch her - all the time.

"Maybe you had a hotel in mind?" She asks, all of a sudden a bit self-conscious and he realises that maybe he had been staring at her a bit too much. He smiles and shakes his head.

"No, I... I never quite got that far. It didn't matter. I didn't think I would be leaving your side, well your body, for a while so..."

"El," she starts but he stops her.

"Shh, it doesn't matter. I am sure I can find a hotel room though. It is a pretty big city," and he peers through the window on the passenger seat of her car, up at the street lights, and watches the tall buildings eat away at the starry sky. It is still windy, and he can hear it howl and screech, trees bending and pedestrians fighting against the force with their umbrellas and pulling scarves and coats closer around their bodies.

"You can stay with me." Liv says matter of factly and Elliot wonders a little about why but won't complain. He thought he had lost her forever this morning, couldn't wrap his broken heart and muddled mind around why no one else was on their knees crying over their dead colleague when he felt like he just wanted to throw his splattered heart up all over his shoes. The more alive time he got with her right now, the better, he decided.

"I don't want to be in your way though," he says still. He isn't a complete asshole. He cares about her enough for him to still make sure she was serious about her proposition.

"I won't argue with you over this tonight, El," and her voice is soft and gentle and he wants to wrap her voice around him like a blanket and sleep in it for days.

"So I bet you're happy you get to return to some normal case tomorrow then?" he asks her, beer in hand, on her sofa, a couple of hours later.

"I don't think anyone is ever happy to know another rape has occurred," she says but she knows what he means. "But I will be happy to know that you're not crying over my dead body somewhere tomorrow. I think once is enough."

"I don't know where you got that idea from..." he says, his face pulling into a grimace. "I... that's not- Okay. Yeah I was crying."

She laughs softly and he is thankful for it. It feels strange, but so good that their run in with her death wasn't as permanent as it could have been.

"I'm glad you are here," she says then and both of them are aware of the fact that if he had just turned up like this under any other circumstances she would have been a lot more guarded around him. She would have been pissed off and not glad, and he would have been defensive and frustrated, not thankful.

"I'm sorry I haven't come back to see you sooner," he says though, and it is the truth. He is sorry. She doesn't say anything, because it is truth, and there isn't really anything to add. She has no words of comfort for him to make it feel better, or to make him feel less guilty.

"I still wonder who set you up though," and she sips her wine. "Who would put so much effort into a prank, and why this one... why you and me?"

He likes those words, you and me, in the same sentence, like that, coming out of her mouth. He savors the sound, locks it away in his mind to keep forever.

"Some sick idiot thought it was funny I guess."

She doesn't know though. She isn't convinced, and she doesn't think he is either.

She offers him the bed, mostly for the sake of it, because she knows full well that he will never accept it. He almost looks offended even and she half smiles at him, because really she was serious. She would be fine on the couch.

"What kind of man do you think I am? Have you completely forgotten who I am?" he rants while he pulls his jeans off and before she has time to protest again he has taken the sheets and blankets from her arms and is making up his bed on the sofa. "Take your bed from you..." he mutters like it is the craziest idea he has ever heard and she laughs as she walks back into her room to at least get him some extra pillows. He catches the "crazy fool" she whispers under her breath and he knows she is amused.

Everything feels so familiar that he almost forgets how he ended up here when she sits on his legs, in her pajamas and knitted socks, and that damn gray knitted cardigan on top. She's watching the film that's playing on the TV and he stretches underneath her, making her laugh. Even with her weight on his legs he can easily move and to get another laugh out of her he lifts his legs slightly, so that she lifts off the couch too and she slaps his knee.

"Stop that!" she protests but her eyes are warm. He lies still again, and lies back, returning his attention to the film. When it is over he helps her clear up, and then walks her back to her bedroom. He closes her blinds and pulls her covers back for her and he isn't sure why, he just does and he always has when he's been around for bedtime. It hasn't been often of course, but when she has been ill, or either of them have been upset after a tough day and he's stayed. She gets into bed and he wants to actually tuck her in, kiss her on the head and tell her how happy he is that he was wrong but he thinks she knows, he hopes so, and instead he just hovers in the doorway, promises her that yes, he will be okay on the couch. He asks for her permission to switch the light off, and she nods and sighs into the darkness. Her alarm is set for 5.30am and she can tell he's still standing there, in the doorway, for a little bit longer. He is about to go when she asks him, "El," her voice is soft and careful, "will you come into work with me tomorrow?"

It is a funny way of asking him when he is planning on bailing on her again, and he knows that what she actually means is 'will you still be here tomorrow when I wake up?' it's just that Olivia Benson is a very proud, independent and guarded woman who wouldn't be caught dead begging him to stay.

"Will you call me El, all day?"

"Yeah," she says innocently and he grins into the darkness.

"Wouldn't miss another day with you for the world. Good night Liv."

* * *

Thanks for reading. Reviews/feedback welcomed of course.

There is a second chapter of this to anyone interested, with the actual answer to who tricked Elliot and why. Otherwise it can be seen as a stand-alone dealing with Elliot's return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **September Storm (2/2)

**Author:** pacificbluegirl

**Disclaimer:** The Law and Order characters are not mine, just borrowed

**Authors note:** This is chapter two for all you curious people, and there is a lot more E/O in this part. Hope you all like it. Creative liberties taken with the layout of JFK. I have been, but just made it look like I needed it to look for this purpose.

* * *

"Liv?"

The detective in him has by the time he's crossed her bedroom not only registered the time (04.02) but also the fact that the room is, apart from his tossing and turning partner, empty. Her struggling form, tangled in her sheets, explains what woke him up but he still peers into the en-suite on his way to her bed.

"Livvy," he tries and he thinks she might have stilled a bit when she whimpers again. She's too warm, he can tell, and he probably would have been a bit frightened if it wasn't for the fact that he faced what could only be described as hell with her for over a decade. He knew what lingered under her skin when she crawled into bed at night. He knew exactly what kind of demons hovered over her in the dark, circling her mind and her bed. He has pulled her out of plenty of nightmares over the years but as he slowly lowers himself to the edge of her bed he is very aware of the fact that he walked away from the right to look after her years ago now.

She looks the same though and he reaches over to her bedside table to switch on the small light there. The soft white glow of the light floods over her bed and he gingerly strokes the palm of her hand with his thumb and feels her hand close around his a second later. He gently calls her name again but she's too far away from him and her cheeks are burning hot. He tugs his hand back, carefully, and having lost his touch her hands instantly close in fists and he wonders what monster she is defending herself against tonight.

He goes over the the window and cracks it open, hopes that some cool night air will help her calm down and for a moment he stands there, just looking at her, and he thinks of the night he left, and the night before last, when he went to bed thinking nothing at all, feeling nothing. It had all changed in a heartbeat and a simple phone call had crumbled his big strong walls like a nuclear bomb. The numbness he had felt for years now fell away and just like that he could feel everything as if it was a force within him. Pain, guilt, grief and... regret.

A phone call.

She stills on the bed then. She is frozen right there and for a heartbeat, when he looks at her there on the bed he sees the dead woman from the picture he was sent. The dead partner Officer Cook had spoken about on the phone, bloody and broken. He blinks against the image and she heaves a big, shaky breath suddenly and he sinks down beside her on the bed again. She must have pulled herself back out of the dream - he knows because though her eyes are still closed her fingers are brushing lightly over a spot on his hip, in the small gap between his t-shirt and the elastic of his boxers. Goosebumps are spreading up his back and across the taught skin over his stomach and he smiles in relief when she mumbles "go back to sleep, El."

It makes him chuckle in the dusty morning light because her fingertips are still stroking his side and she coos and shoos at him like he is the one who needs reassuring that he's safe enough to sleep.

He leans down, reaches over to switch the light off on her bedside table, and kisses her temple. He then picks up her hand, that he can tell is getting heavier and heavier, and her strokes are getting slower and slower. He kisses her fingertips, then her knuckles before he turns the small hand over in his larger one and places a kiss right in her palm.

He leaves the window open, and doesn't close her bedroom door on his way out. He wants to hear her if she needs him and when he settles back on the couch he thinks of all the other nights, between then and now, when she will have had the same nightmares and no one to call. He wouldn't always come over even before, of course. In fact she was so proud and stubborn that she hardly ever let him offer any kind of comfort but she knew that the day she couldn't cope he would be there as fast as his car could get him there - no matter what. Who was her speed dial number one now?

He drifts back to sleep eventually but makes a mental note to ask her in the morning.

Early morning sun is stretching across her floor and her bed when they settle under her duvet a few hours later with freshly baked cinnamon buns that Elliot ran down to the bakery on the corner for and they're still warm, and her knee is resting against his as they talk about everything that has happened since then and now that doesn't make both of them want to cry. It doesn't leave a lot of topics if Olivia is to be honest but she feels content where she is when she asks about his kids and his eyes spark with warmth and happiness for once, instead of turning hard and troubled. She is aware of the fact that they can't spend all day in her bed, but she isn't stressed. She won't allow herself to be, she wants to remember this morning forever and she is planning on locking away every memory of every second within her and use it for strength when she needs it.

"What about you..." he asks gingerly, but with a cheeky little grin growing on his face. She knows what's coming and is already rolling her eyes at him. "Found a non-asshole yet?"

She knows what he means, knows his words aren't meant to hurt in any way, but there is still something within her that tugs on her heart. She swirls her coffee around and studies it intently and he peers at her from where he is sitting next to her. He can smell her shampoo, jasmine, orange and something he isn't sure of mixed with the warm cinnamon that is lingering in the room. He realises that maybe he shouldn't have said it quite like that. He wants to say that he only asked because he was hoping there was someone absolutely perfect in her life and- but he can't. He doesn't want to think of why he can't even say it.

"I don't mean that you normally only get assholes, I just- you have a tendency to- er," he waves his hand around in a way that is so not like him that she wants to laugh. "I just mean that you're normally not great at picking 'em. That's all."

She smiles and he is relieved that she is not angry with him. She normally doesn't like when he digs around in her love life.

"There is nothing wrong with how I pick them, Elliot."

Elliot, huh? Okay so some things never change, he thinks. She still doesn't like him digging in her love life.

"You're normally not great at liking or accepting them. That's all," she continues and he stares at her, skeptically.

"Want me to list the ones that have turned out to be psyc-"

"No thanks El, that will not be necessary!"

"You'll find someone," he says softly and in that moment he is consumed by jealousy of that anonymous man, someone he hasn't even met.

"Well I have been seeing this one guy a couple of times..." she starts and though he brought it up himself he finds himself secretly relieved when she asks to change the subject before she can be more specific.

"But enough about this now El. Do you want the shower first or...?"

He wants to go for a run though and she scoots out of bed and walks across the room to her closet to pull some of his old sweats and a t-shirt off the top shelf.

"More of my clothes?" he smiles from where he is stretching out on her bed. She just shrugs, can't remember what got to her house when and why. It has just always been there. She sleeps in some of it in the winter and she likes knowing it is there. On days when he feels like a ghost of her past, when she has been followed around by an Elliot shaped hole all day she likes to bury her face in one of his old hoodies or t-shirts just to smell him and be reminded of the fact that he is real, not just some imaginary friend she once had and forgot about. She doesn't say that though. She doesn't really need to because when she carefully moves past him to jump in the shower while he gets changed for his run he can see the tears threatening to spill over in her eyes and he knows she's just handed him something important, something that some days acts like a life line.

"You still have a pair of running shoes in my car!" she calls through the closed door and he nods to himself.

"Was counting on that," he smiles and he goes through her bag for the keys. Knows she won't mind.

"Car keys are in-"

"Found them!" he calls back and he can still hear the sadness in her voice. He knows she feels embarrassed about the fact that two years down the line she still has things that belong to him pretty much everywhere but it doesn't strike him as sad or pathetic even though he knows that what she fears. To him it is an honour and comforting to know that she still loves him enough to surround herself with him even when he is not there. He feels pain stab deep in his chest though as he thinks about the hurt she will have caused herself at the same time. He wonders how she could have that constant reminder of not only him, but his betrayal and not go mad. The water is running in the bathroom now and he thinks about the shampoo again, about suds, soap and her fingers over her abs and- no he can't do that. Not now. So instead he fetches the trainers from her car and he runs. He lets his feet pound against familiar tarmac and he thinks about nothing and everything all at once. He runs so fast that his thoughts, worries, wishes and regrets all line up in neat rows and he goes through, past and over them - he rearranges them and while he is still moving his entire mind is organised and untangled. Everything appears clear. He doesn't ever want to stop. He pushes himself further and faster and his chest is heaving. He's there, Liv's there and there is nothing else. The city seems to cheer him on and he feels stronger than he has in a long time. He doesn't feel so old. He doesn't feel retired or like he has lost touch with who he is, and could have been. He is just him.

By the time he comes back up to Olivia's apartment she appears to have left for work. Her gun and badge are missing and her shoes too. There are a couple of newly washed towels on the coffee table next to a note in her handwriting.

_Cragen called, had to go. _

_You should come down later. _

_Towels are for you. _

_Liv_

He laughs and goes to get himself a glass of water. Who else would the towels be for? He downs the entire glass and goes to pick them up when something pink catches his eye. There, in the window is a big bouquet of light pink Esperance roses. He isn't sure he would have noticed them at all if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't your normal sized bouquet. There must have been at least 200 roses in the arrangement and there is a half open jewellery box next to it. He is too jealous to walk away, and too curious as well so he looks inside only to find a small card next to what looks like an imprint of a necklace or a bracelet in soft velvet. This note is even more brief than the one Liv had just left him, and just states a where and a when but he gets it. A date, tonight. He hears himself swear out loud and he is all of a sudden glad Olivia had been called in to work before he got back. Gifts like these only ever indicated another asshole. This guy was clearly over-compensating for something. Liv did say she had only seen him a couple of times... what was this over the top gift meant to achieve exactly?

Well. He wasn't stupid. Elliot grunts in disapproval and downs another glass of water while staring angrily at the delicate flowers. It all feels so wrong. His stare does nothing to crush the pink perkiness of the flowers though and they stand there, proud and beautiful drinking in the sunshine coming in from the window. He sighs and heads for the shower knowing he won't head down to the precinct today despite Olivia's suggestion. He doesn't want to spend a day watching new detectives not only parade his partner around in front of him but also doing his job. He can think of a million more fun things to do with his time and by the time he has dried himself and he is dressed and ready he has already caught up with a few buddies over the phone and they're going to meet up. He hurries past the flowers on his way out and pretends they're not there. Deep inside he is thinking he should be happy for his friend but today was meant to be his. For just one day he wanted things to be normal and as selfish as that makes him he can't help but feel it still.

In the afternoon the wind is starting to pick up again. Olivia pulls her scarf tighter around her neck and her shoulders are pulled up against the cold as she pushes her hands deeper in her pockets. The sky is hanging low over them, heavy clouds clinging to the corners of the sky and dipping down over the city. Orange and yellow leaves dance in the wind and twirl in wide circles around their legs where they're huddled together on the sidewalk. Elliot can feel time burn inside him and though the world around him, the cold and the threatening rain above melt away as he looks into her big brown eyes he is still so aware of the fact that it's getting closer and closer to 6pm.

Her date.

She hasn't said anything but he takes that as a sign he shouldn't pry. It has nothing to do with him. She will have dated for two years without him knowing about it, without him meddling with any of it so what gives him the right now? He came back for his dead partner, colleague, and she has now risen from said death and is back to going about her life. Including her love life.

He had called the airline earlier, managed to get on a flight just after 8pm and he should really head off soon. That's what he heard himself say anyway. She nods weakly, like she wants to protest but can't find the strength.

"Thanks," he says to break the silence, and because he means it. From the bottom of his heart. "Thanks for letting me stay last night and for not being dead and all." He grins. She smiles back at him, and it hurts her face, makes her eyes burn. He sounds just like himself then. She misses him desperately already, but she can't say that. Won't admit that after all of those years wondering why he had left without saying goodbye she now thought she would throw up knowing this time the goodbye was inevitable. She thought it would have been so much nicer back then, to have had that official farewell, but now she isn't so sure anymore. She's alive but she imagines that this is what it feels like, dying.

It is getting hard to breathe, and she blinks away tears, not because she is scared of crying in front of him, she's done it before- but because her vision is getting blurred and the edges of his form are fading, like he is slipping away into that ghost of a memory already. She feels her hands wanting to reach out to touch him, to pull him back into her reality but she is scared that she will cling to him then, and never let go.

He swallows hard and looks down at their shoes, toes mere centimeters from each other. She looks up towards the sky instead, where night is lowering itself over them and weak and faded star constellations are tangling with the dark clouds. She takes a deep breath and when she looks at him again he kisses her on the forehead and whispers "stay safe", his voice thick and deep.

There is a cab suddenly and Liv hardly has time to register his words before he's gone. It isn't until the cab has turned the corner and is out of her sight that it hits her. No 'goodbye'.

"He's not staying?" Nick asks her as she slumps back down into her chair as she gets inside.

"What?" she asks, her mind a million miles away.

"Stabler," Nick frowns at her, concerned. "Did he go already?"

"Yeah," she nods trying to refocus on something, anything. "Just now."

"I thought he would stick around for a few days." Nick continues, and seeks her eyes to find out if she thought the same but she's guarded, closed off.

"Maybe," is her only reply but there had been something about him this afternoon. She feels foolish having assumed they would be having dinner tonight. She wonders all of a sudden just when she thought he would be leaving?! He couldn't stay forever, having breakfast in her bed, sleeping on her couch. How could he both slip out into her life so fast when she couldn't seem to let anyone else even work their way in over time? She hears him over and over in her mind as she tries to complete her paperwork. Stay safe. Stay safe. Stay safe. It isn't so much the words, as the sound of his voice that is clinging to her mind. She can feel that thickness, the intense emotion in him ripple through her every time she recalls the sound. It's like waves, sea foam tickling the inside of her rib cage and when she closes her eyes she can still see the stars floating over her, faded and worn over the city lights but white and beautiful.

She gives up on that paperwork with a sigh and she heads up to the roof. She wants to be closer to the sky. Stay safe. Stay safe. Stay safe. The wind rips and tugs at her as she pushes herself out into the stormy night and she grips the railing so hard her knuckles go white. She wants to scream into the darkness but can't find a single sound in her throat. In her heard Elliot's voice is so loud now that she can't hear anything over the sound. She thinks about how she used to have him as hers for over a decade. Every day. It was a period of time that felt like an eternity then, a stretch of time and reality that could only be altered by death, most likely in the line of duty. Anything threatening to separate them had always been an outside force of some sort. A bullet breaking through the force field that was their partnership, a knife and an artery, internal affairs deciding to break them up... but it was never meant to be one of them breaking them up. Not forever. Not even when they were temporarily partnered with other people, not when she went undercover for months without him, never did she think it would force them apart forever. She thought one of them would be stronger than the threat. Even if one of them broke the other one would be there to keep them together.

Why had she not been strong enough to bring him back last time? Why was she not strong enough now?

Why was she letting him walk back out of her life?

* * *

Fin is about to leave when he picks up the call. The trace on the picture sent to Elliot's phone yesterday morning has finally managed to narrow it down and he scribbles down the information, asking to have it emailed across to him as well. Officer Cook isn't an officer at all, but they knew that, Fin thinks as he scans the database hit on the owner of the phone.

"Martin Willis," Fin muses out loud and Nick looks up from his desk.

"Martin?" He asks, getting up to walk over. "Are you sure?"

"He must have called Elliot, posing as an officer from this precinct and then sent the picture of Liv to really drive this home with Stabler."

"Right where it hurts," Nick muses as he peers at the computer screen over Fin's shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something when a delivery boy walks through the door.

"Benson?" the boy calls and that must have caught Cragen's attention because Fin can see him hovering in the doorway to his office all of a sudden.

"I'll sign for it," Nick says and crosses the squad room, half jogging over to the young man who shoves a clipboard into Nick's hands.

"Great, sign here, and here." He taps the slip of paper in two places and Nick glances at the big bag that's draped over his shoulder. He can see Fin and Cragen both inching closer as he unzips the bag. They've had enough happen to Liv in the past and there has been too many strange things happen in the past couple of days for them to respect her privacy.

"What is it Amaro?" Cragen asks as he comes up closer and Nick holds the item up to him.

"It is a dress," he states confused. "A really, really expensive dress."

"How can anyone charge so much for such little fabric?" Fin mutters as he takes a closer look.

"Have you seen her in..." Nick unveals more of the dress and can't quite finish his sentence, picturing his partner in the revealing garment. It is a beautiful dress, and she is stunning even when she thinks she isn't, but in this... Nick swallows hard before he pulls himself out of his head. "Does she-"

"Sometimes." Fin nods. "She's a woman. She dresses up... er... down," and Fin is glancing at the plunging back of the dress again while Cragen narrows his eyes at them.

"Either way, this is Olivia, and she does not order dresses to be delivered to work."

They look at each other and they know the captain is right.

"So they delivered it to wrong address..." Nick thinks out loud, "or she didn't order it at all. Could be a gift from someone? Where is she anyway? She was right here earlier!"

"Find her Amaro, either she is missing a dress or someone else thinks she does. Fin, in the meantime call the delivery company and find out who paid for the dress."

The captain returns to his office and Nick gingerly puts the dress down, draping it over Liv's chair.

"Hey Fin," he starts and Fin hums as he waits for someone to pick up the phone on the other end of the line.

"Yeah?"

"Martin Willis... I know-"

But Fin motions for him to shut up as someone finally answers his call and Nick picks up his cell phone as he walks out to try to track down his partner. It is ringing, and ringing but she doesn't pick up and it isn't until five calls later, when he happens to be walking past the lockers as he calls that he realises that she's left her phone behind. She isn't going to pick up. He slams his fist against the locker in frustration and the name Martin Willis is still bouncing around in his head. It scrapes against his mind and something feels strange. Martin... Martin. Martin.

He picks up Liv's phone and is about to pocket it when he spots something on her lit up screen. 7 missed calls. Five are from himself, but two are from a... Martin.

His mouth goes dry and he rubs his face, hard, before rushing back over the Fin. Of course, he thinks. He had dragged it out of her weeks ago. He had teased, he had smiled with her when she came back the next morning glowing.

"MARTIN!" he says in unison with Fin, who is still on the phone with the delivery company. Fin looks up at him as he repeats the name back to the lady.

"A Mr Cook, a Martin Cook paid for the delivery of the dress?"

Nick shakes his head in disbelief. Why didn't he think of this sooner. Fin puts the phone down and Nick is nearly bouncing on his feet as he gathers his things.

"Cook, schmook..." Nick rants as he looks for his car keys. "Willis... who cares! Fin it's the same guy!"

"I get that Sherlock," Fin barks, his voice impatient with the younger man but there is an amused spark in his eye at the sight of Nick scrambling around. He soon gets serious again though, confusion evident on his face. "But why send Elliot a picture of a dead Olivia and then send Olivia a dress?!"

"Because she is dating him!" Nick has momentarily given up on finding his car keys and is instead pulling up Liv's text messages on her phone. "She left her cell behind and he tried to call her. I knew she knew a Martin! She told me about him... well as much as she ever tells anyone about anything that goes on in her life."

"What do we know about this creep then, apart from the fact that he wants to make sure Elliot thinks he has nothing to come back for?" Fin asks and Nick shakes his head.

"Where does she find these guys?!"

"That's it! She's grounded! No dating until she is 86."

"Fin." Cragen is back and concern is swimming in his eyes. "Find her. Let's not risk the picture Elliot received being a warning of what is to come."

"Here," Nick holds the phone out to them. "He sent her a text message a few hours ago, reminding her of the address! This guy is pretty persistent!"

"Fin, take Munch, go!"

"Captain?" Nick asks. "Where do you want me?"

Cragen glances at the dress on Olivia's chair, his eyes narrowing as he thinks.

"I want you to help me check on a... feeling I have." He nods towards the dress. "She isn't wearing the dress... she doesn't even know it exists and we don't know if she even read that message."

"Even if she did..." Nick nods, "Even if she did she has other _things_ going on right now."

"Exactly," Cragen says grabbing his coat. "We are going to JFK. There is a chance she's not at that restaurant at all."

* * *

The stale coffee burns the back of his throat and he isn't registering a single word he is reading. He fingers the pages of the book in his hand, even changes the page once in a while but he has no idea what it's about. He can't focus. There is more thunder tearing through the sky now, on the other side of the runway stretching out in front of the terminal building. A long, dark stretch of black and grey dotted with white, green and red and down below the ground staff are bent over and fighting in the strong wind, their reflective jackets glaring in the light from the building. Elliot closes his eyes momentarily, doesn't want to look up at the big notice boards, doesn't want to think about what to do if his flight gets grounded tonight.

He puts his book down, leaves it on the small table, and pretends like he can't hear the lady that calls after him, in broken English.

"Sir, you forgot... Sir you left your-"

And he can't hear her. He can't hear her. He didn't leave anything. It isn't important and he feels as if he is walking in sand. Everything in him hurts and each step is heavy, so heavy. He strains against his own muscles. He fights his own head. Stop it says, turn around and he forces his legs to not comply. He goes against his own impulses and his nerve endings are burning hot under his skin.

He remembers the storm he arrived in and he is watching the world outside blend with rain once again as the sky finally gives in and breaks open. The neon buried in the ground glows defiant and strong through the darkness. He pushes ahead and only stops to press his forehead against the cool glass. He tries to picture his warm bed at home. Clean sheets, cooked dinner on the table and Eli's soft pajamas. He tries to breathe through it all. Just put it away in compartments in his mind. Past, present, future. Just file it away where it all belongs.

* * *

Nick's feet are pounding against the floor. Tourists and jaded businesses men and women fall away around him. A briefcase hits him in the knee and he calls his apology out over his shoulder. Cragen is somewhere behind him and he doesn't even know where he is going. He didn't know before either, but the second Fin's voice had come over the radio telling them that the address- that they had believed was a restaurant was in fact abandoned he didn't care about his direction anymore. The building half burnt to the ground still had the fire escape standing and rose petals had led a weary Fin all the way to the roof. He had every intention of breaking up whatever was going on, rose petals or not.

What he found though was not what he expected.

"Three dead." He'd said over the radio, his voice flat. The pause stretched into infinity in Nick's mind, and Cragen stared at the radio in Nick's hand as to force more words out of the crackly radio silence.

"Shot in the head."

"Olivia?" Cragen called out to Fin and Nick stood frozen waiting for the answer. "Is she there?!"

* * *

_Click, click, click_ and the board over his head updated itself. Green turning into red. Delayed it read. Elliot isn't surprised, just frustrated. It had taken so much energy to just force himself into the building. Now this storm, this city, was holding him hostage. There is a play area and a tired mother sits on the floor next to it, feeding her baby while keeping an eye on her older children as they play and Elliot can't help himself, he scans over the area with her. He can see her counting, one, two, three... He studies her and thinks of his own wife. Ex wife now. Again. He thinks of all the time she spent on her own with their kids. He thinks of all the time he wasn't there.

He had been so young when they got married, when they started their family and had kids while they were still kids themselves. He had always pulled himself apart trying to be so much at once. He had spent his life trying to provide, protect, love and serve. He had tried to give back to absolutely everyone around him and still it was never quite enough. He let someone down no matter what he did. He had walked away from that life, or at least so he thought. For two years he had pretended that he was only needed in one place.

He feels sick to his stomach and he doesn't know what to do, where to go. He just needs air but there isn't any and he spots the walkway that ties the terminal together with it's extension. He climbs the stairs and the sound of the rain on the glass makes him feel like he is being pulled and sucked into a tunnel. Apart from the floor under his feet the corridor is free standing and made out of thick window panes. He can see up and out and the rain throws the night sky down over him in streaks of darkness and color. Space appears to be literally falling down around him and he just stands there, in the noise and the colors and his legs are shaking. He wants to sit down, thinks he might have to lie down too as he feels like he's lost something. Something somewhere had gone terribly wrong.

His chest is tight, and he thinks he has to call Liv. He just has to. Something is wrong. Again.

His hands are shaking worse than his legs and he nearly drops his phone when he digs it out of his pocket. He fumbles with it but all he has to do is press 1. She's the first on his speed dial. Always will be.

It rings once, twice and-

"Elliot!"

He jolts, nearly falls over because it isn't her. He lowers the phone from his ear and watches in disbelief and confusion as Cragen and Nick, flashing their badges, push through the crowd on the floor below. Nick shouts his name again and he walks down a few steps on unsteady legs.

"Elliot, please!" Cragen begs with him and he doesn't know why. "Is she with you?!" and his Captain sound desperate, out of breath and wounded as he climbs the first few steps towards the confused ex Detective. He thinks he can smell her shampoo again then, and her perfume. He thinks of cinnamon buns in bed and her soft knee resting against his.

"What?"

"Olivia, is she with you?" Nick demands then, and Elliot notices how he looks pretty damn worried.

He takes another few steps down, towards Nick and Don when-

"Yes," and her voice is steady and soft. Elliot wants to cry but all he can do is press his eyes shut. Tight. "Yes," Liv calls again from behind him. From the top of the stairs. "I'm here."

The shock, the pain and the pure bliss playing across Elliot's face all at once doesn't go unnoticed by Nick and Cragen as they realise Elliot didn't know where she was up until this moment either. Elliot just stands there, frozen and Olivia slowly makes her way down to him. The clicks of her heels against the stairs stop when she is right next to him and laughter bubbles out of him then. His eyes crinkle and he laughs. She pulls her fringe behind her ear and nervously glances at him, a small smile on her face, before looking down at Nick and Cragen.

"What... what are you doing here?" Elliot asks, and his hands find her waist, her back, her cheek. He ends up holding her hands in his, squeezing them as he leans down to rest his forehead against hers, their noses brushing against each other. He breathes her in until he feels dizzy.

"I have gone over in my head, a million times, what I would say to you if I ever saw you again. A million times. I would run it over in my head over and over. At first every day. Every morning and every night I would think about exactly what I would say."

He looks so broken and guilty at her words that she takes a shaky breath before she continues, silencing him with a kiss to his cheek when he tries to interrupt her.

"Then you came, and none of it mattered, because you came thinking you would never be able to tell me anything ever again and it didn't feel fair. You left again and I realised, Elliot," she squeezes his hands, hard. "I never practiced what I would say when I would have to say goodbye. I had imagined you coming back so many times, but never had I thought about what it would feel like to lose you all over again."

"Liv... Livvy..." he presses his mouth to her hair and he can't stop breathing her in. He can't let her go because if he does he will fall.

"El, I can't. I can't do it again."

"You don't have to," and as the words leave his mouth he knows it's the truth. He had stretched himself, tried to please so many people, tried to love them all, and he had ended up sacrificing the one person who was desperate to always look after him over everyone else. The one person who didn't only rely on him, but that he could rely on too. "We- I can't do this again either. I love you, and I thought shutting you, the job, everything related to you out, would make things easier. I thought it would pull my family closer, when in reality it made me lonely. Half! Liv, you are family."

The big digital clock on the terminal wall shows 00:00 and THURS turns into FRI and Elliot glances up before he hoists her up, off the floor, and she laughs and he kisses her cheek, her nose, her forehead and her lips. It's soft and light and Nick looks on, almost amused while Cragen sits down on the steps, a soft sigh tumbling off his lips. He notes the playfulness in Elliot's eyes, and the kiss they share isn't passionate and fiery, just warm and loving and he wonders if it has happened before. He wonders if Olivia Benson has ever let her walls crumble quite like this before.

Elliot puts Liv down again and they laugh together down the final steps to the floor below and Nick shakes Elliot's hand while Cragen smiles softly at them. Don buys them all coffee in the nearest Starbucks and they squeeze into a booth listening to how Martin Willis had posed as Officer Cook and tricked Elliot into thinking Liv was dead.

She lowers her eyes and plays with her hot mug.

"I knew something was wrong... I just didn't think- oh god." She sighs, tiredly. "I have pictures of me and El, at home. He asked about them when he came back to mine the first time. I said he was an old friend and I could tell he didn't quite believe me. I then..." she screws her face up, doesn't like talking about it but goes on anyway as Nick finishes his coffee. "I had a nightmare. I was screaming Elliot's name as I woke up and Martin flipped. He just wouldn't let it go and I decided I didn't want to see him again."

"Until he sent the roses..." Elliot continues for her and she looks at him, confused.

"What roses?"

"The ones you got this morning, while I went out running?"

Olivia stares at him.

"What are you talking about? I didn't get any roses."

Don clears his throat wants to say something but doesn't quite know what and Nick sends a text to Fin to go check out Liv's apartment.

"They were there! When I came back Liv, there was 200 odd roses in your living room, and a jewellery box... empty box! So I assumed you had definitely found it. The note said you had a date and I thought-"

"He was in my apartment?!"

"Fin is on his way there now Liv." Nick assures her, reading Fin's reply. "We found you, and Fin found two dead waiters and a waitress where he asked to meet you for this date but no Willis. It is possible he went back to yours to look for you when you didn't show up. Either way we are going to need those flowers for evidence."

"Another douche bag in other words," Elliot mutters looking at Olivia.

"I should have known you thought I had a date... you were acting so strange. Classic jealous Stabler."

"Hah!" Elliot shifts in his seat. "Definitely not jealous."

"You will be when you see the dress." Nick chuckles.

"What dress?" Elliot asks looking between Olivia and Nick.

"Well, half a dress really..." Nick muses and Elliot looks agitated. Cragen looks at the time and stands up to usher his Detectives, and ex Detective, home for the night.

"Guys..."

"When I find this guy I will tear _him_ in half," Elliot mutters under his breath and Olivia smiles to herself just happy to have him back.

* * *

"Until next time," Elliot smiles, his eyes locked to hers. He had stayed all weekend and when Martin Willis was finally found and arrested on Monday morning, Liv's apartment had been released back to her and her locks had been changed, under Elliot's supervision of course, they had driven out to the airport again together.

They had stayed in a hotel, watched movies, gone for runs together and on Sunday evening Elliot had borrowed a restaurant that a friend of his owned and they had cooked together which had turned out surprisingly well though they did spend most of the evening laughing hysterically at each other. Neither of them were afraid of the airport this time. It was coming, Liv was going back to work and Elliot was going back to his kids. Their realities needed to resume, but as Liv stood on her toes, hugging him close in the departures hall they knew they didn't have to keep their realities separate.

"Until next time," she smiles into this shoulder. "Never goodbye."

And it felt good, naive maybe, but good too.

The kiss is soft, again. Light and comforting. It is a promise of what is to come.

"Every month," she whispers against his lips and he smiles.

"On the first Friday of every month, I will be here," he says and he feels a warm glow grow inside his chest and stomach as he gets to say it out loud. "And I will stay the weekend. It will be our Liv and Elliot time."

"Are you sure? It's a lot of trips and... I understand if-"

"Liv." And he looks so serious she thinks he might cry. She knows she wants to. "I know I don't want two more years of feeling too guilty to speak to you. I don't want two years of not knowing how you are. I never want a stranger to tell me I am too late to tell you I love you, ever again."

A soft smile tugs at her lips and she runs her fingers through her hair. "Some weekends I might be working a case," she reminds him.

"Even better," he grins. "I happen to know that _Detective_ Benson is really hot!"

She waves at him as he walks through Security and is about to walk back out to her car when he calls after her.

"Olivia!"

She turns around and a few of his fellow passengers look annoyed.

"Who's your number 1? On your speed dial?"

She looks confused but goes along with it anyway, and he loves her for it.

"You!"

"Still?" he smiles and the airport security guard is looking impatient in the background.

"Always."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought.

Also AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH the season premiere. Emmy worthy performance surely. Fantastic episode and I thought I would stop breathing more than once. I was relieved when commercial breaks came because it was so intense.

Could have done with a Chris Meloni guest appearance though. ;)


End file.
